


I listen for returning feet and voices at the door

by UnheardMelody



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Angst, BotFA AU, Durincest, Hurt, M/M, Sadness, Sibling Incest, no seriously angst, not really a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7900060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnheardMelody/pseuds/UnheardMelody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If people always spoke of Fili as a sun, golden and warm and reassuring, he knew that Kili had to be his moon. Still bright, and shining (although, in contrast with the moon, of his own light), but with a darker side too, one that was fierce and wild, and could not be tamed. His brother was always a free spirit, and Fili knew he would never be able to hold him at bay, nor did he want to."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I listen for returning feet and voices at the door

**Author's Note:**

> Today, a dear friend of my father passed away. I had known him my whole life. He was much too young.   
> He had a twin brother, and my grief when thinking of his loss lead me to think of Fili and Kili. I do not know what on Earth he would think of what I wrote; however, this story is in his memory.  
> It should not have gone this way. Rest in peace, A.

Kili was the other half of Fili’s soul. He was everything Fili was not: dark-haired, slender, quick to action, impulsive, joyous and he never missed the chance to join in a fight. Fili is blond, naturally broader but shorter, and perhaps a little wiser, more prone to thinking rather than acting without a plan, and maybe for this very reason, he’s never been the one who enjoyed life the most. In his heart, he’s always admired his little brother, who could embrace every challenge life threw at him as an adventure. He admired his easy smile, his loud laugh, and his eyes more often than not glinting with mischief. There’s no doubt that Fili was probably the one who had planned the mischief to begin with, but Kili was always most enthusiastic to follow.

Fili can remember the day they decided they would join Thorin’s quest as if it was yesterday. Thorin had sat them down in his small study in their house in the Blue Mountains, and had announced that he was going to reclaim the home his ancestors had built. Fili can’t really say it was a surprise to him. Since he first had memory, his uncle had always spoken about Erebor, telling over and over again the tale of how it had been robbed from the dwarves by Smaug, who had killed so many in his cruel lust for gold. Fili had never been to Erebor, and yet he knew it was his duty to reclaim it, just as it was Thorin’s.

Although he had known this in his heart, he had turned to Kili. Kili had a chance to stay out of this: after all, he was not the heir to Thorin’s throne, and he could stay in Ered Luin to take care of their people while his uncle was away. Fili knew the quest was a suicide mission, and he hoped to keep Kili out of it.

However, all his resolve had crumbled to pieces the moment he’d turned to face Kili. His eyes were alive with excitement, and Fili could practically see his mind painting itself with images of glory and battle and victory. He’d known straight away that there would be no convincing Kili to stay. There was determination in Kili’s eyes, determination not to be left behind, not when his brother was bound by duty to the quest.

Useless to say, they had told Thorin they would both join his quest. Neither of them knew they wouldn’t come out of it together.

If people always spoke of Fili as a sun, golden and warm and reassuring, he knew that Kili had to be his moon. Still bright, and shining (although, in contrast with the moon, of his own light), but with a darker side too, one that was fierce and wild, and could not be tamed. His brother was always a free spirit, and Fili knew he would never be able to hold him at bay, nor did he want to. He was never afraid of the dark glint in Kili’s eyes; if anything, he was fascinated, drawn to his brother’s world of light and shadow.

Fili knows he was never a sun. No sun would fade from the loss of his moon. Fili knows his brightness came from Kili, and now that he’s not there to irradiate him anymore, Fili is getting colder and colder, like he’s used up all of his fuel, and now he’s burning out.

Although he’s older than Kili, Fili does not remember the way life was before his brother came to life. He doesn’t remember a single day before Kili’s birth, and his very first memory is made of Kili’s brown eyes filled with tears and his tiny mouth shaped in a slight “o”, a scream caught in his throat. As soon as Fili had set eyes on him, Kili had stopped screaming and wriggling in his mother’s arms, only to stare wide-eyed at his brother. That was the moment their mother understood they were more than just brothers, that something powerful bound them together.

Later on, Kili had grown like a limb attached to Fili’s body, always at his side and always in his thoughts. It had taken years before either of them understood the true implications of their bond, and yet when Fili had finally realised it, it had felt like in his heart he’d always known that Kili was his other half.

It happened during the quest, when they were in Mirkwood. They had never been apart for long periods of time before, and when the elves confined them in two different cells that were not even remotely close to each other, they finally realised their bond was even more special than they’d thought. They yearned for each other in ways they’d never felt before. Fili felt like his heart couldn’t stay in his chest, knowing that Kili was out there in the elvish fortress somewhere and eager to find him, to hold him in his arms, to feel his body’s warmth seep through his clothes.

When Bilbo freed them and they finally managed to see each other once more, there were no words spoken between them. They simply stared into each other’s eyes, for a few precious seconds ignorant of the world around them, and knew. They knew they’d felt the exact same things and what it meant.

Two nights after that, in Lake Town, in a small room that smelled of fish and damp, they claimed each other as their one and only half. Fili remembers it as the most beautiful night of his dwarf life, and the memory will never slip from him as long as he lives. It was all a blur of skin on skin, ragged breaths chasing each other, muffled cries of pleasure and bliss. Joining with Kili felt like finally being complete, like entering a house and seeing it as home after years of living there. Their intertwined bodies were now one, like Plato’s two halves of the androgynous, separated by Zeus for their arrogance but destined to find each other and join once more.

That night, no star could shine bright enough, no dragon fire could be hot enough, and no treasure could be big enough to distract them from their love making.  

It was with renewed enthusiasm that they took part in the quest after that night. They felt invincible, like their bond could not be broken, and that whatever fate awaited them, it would be one they would share.

But something was bound to go wrong in the process.

In the great battle, Fili and Kili had been fighting side by side. Fili would wield his matching swords and cleave through any enemy that dared cover his path, while Kili would look for slightly higher points from which he could shoot with his bow any possible threat.

In the end, what proved fatal to Kili was his love for his brother. It was a split second decision, one Kili would never regret nor change, had he the possibility to: he saw a huge orc swiftly approaching Fili from behind, fully meaning to take him by surprise, so he didn’t think for a second before pulling an arrow out of his quiver and planting it straight in the orc’s skull. What he did not know was that that was not the only orc that intended to stab his enemy from behind: Kili had just loosened his bow when an axe was smashed between his shoulder blades, knocking his breath out of him, as his brother watched with wide eyes, a scream trapped in his throat.

Fili saw his whole world crumble down in front of him, and although in seconds the orc’s head had been detached from his body and he was holding his brother in his arms, life was already seeping out of him with the stream of his blood. Tears rolled down his brother’s cheeks and yet all Fili saw in Kili’s eyes was cloudless relief and love.

Fili screamed, screamed like he wanted to fight his way out of a nightmare, except this was no nightmare and he would never wake up. His brother’s body lay unmoving in his arms, and all light had gone out from the world.

Fili did not leave his brother’s body. He simply lay, screaming, in the middle of the battle field, surrounded by death, by bodies of equally orcs and dwarves and men and elves, and yet he could not care less for any of them, for the lifeless body in his arms was his brother’s. In the end someone of the company must have heard his screams, because next thing he knew was he was inside the mountain, gently laid on a cold stone floor, Kili still clutched to him.

In the next few days he refused to go too far from his brother’s body.

And now, at his funeral, he simply stares, unseeing, at the stone altar on which Kili was laid. He did not want his brother to be buried here in Erebor. Erebor was never his home, and he died fighting for a homeland he never knew and he never would know, and Fili is so angry. He’s angry because he should have insisted that Kili stay in Ered Luin, that he stay in the mountain during the battle, and he should have prevented him from putting himself in danger for him, although he knows none of the three could really be changed. All of Kili’s actions were direct consequences of the passion that lived in him, and of the love he bore for his brother, and yet Fili knows he will never forgive himself. Together with his brother, he is burying all that is beautiful and bright in the world, for he knows he won’t be able to enjoy those things anymore.

He has no say in where his brother is buried, as Thorin is finally king now, and the last word belongs to him. Fili marginally wonders if Thorin is happy now, now that he’s reclaimed Erebor and he gets to sit on his throne, but one of his nephews is dead and the other is broken beyond repair. Fili does not blame him; he always admired how Thorin sacrificed all his life for his people; but he was never like that, for his brother occupied too big a place in his heart to give all himself to his people. Fili always knew he could be no great king, and now he knows he will never be one. Erebor was never his dream, only his duty, and he knows he could never rule it fairly, not now that the price for its redemption was his brother’s life.

He does not care what Thorin is going to think, but he suspects he already knows. It is very likely that Thorin always knew what they meant to each other, and just let things between them blossom naturally, without pushing them towards each other but without hindering them. Then, if he’s always known, he must also know that Fili is not one anymore, and he never will be. Or maybe he doesn’t. Fili finds he does not really care.

Fili and Kili thought their bond could never be broken, and right they were. It did not break: Fili can feel it tug at his heart just as it did when he and Kili were in Mirkwood; the difference is that now there is nothing at the other end of the string, no one pulling it, it only closes painfully around his heart leaving in him nothing but emptiness.

Fili does not want to be king, let alone stay in Erebor. Once there could have been something for him here, something he could have shared with his brother, but now there is nothing. No amount of gold could help him, nor shining gem. He never truly felt the pull of the Arkenstone, and now he knows why: he had something far more important to yearn for. He also believes this is why Thorin fell for it in such a disastrous way: he did not have something above it, that thing that only loving another person can bring. However, he also thinks that after nearly killing Bilbo and nearly losing him in battle for his own madness, Thorin is starting to understand what true love means. Now he’ll have a chance to appreciate it at its fullest with Bilbo by his side.

Fili smiles at himself sadly at the thought that he was only allowed a few weeks of that bliss that comes from being with your one before everything was torn apart.

Because Bilbo is not going back to the Shire, an opportunity presents itself. Fili is finally sure the hobbit is the most sensitive creature in the world when, a few days after Kili’s funeral and Fili’s aimless wandering in the mountain, he hands him a heavy key and a piece of thick parchment. Fili’s expression is questioning at first, but then he unfolds the parchment and reads it, finding out that Bilbo has entitled him with Bag End, and to make it look all the more official, he’s had Thorin perform as a witness of the authenticity of the paper, royal seal and everything done properly.

Fili raises his eyes and he doesn’t know how to express his gratitude, for he knows this is his escape way from Erebor. He tries to speak, but Bilbo only shakes his head and holds Fili’s hands in his little ones.

The next day, Fili leaves Erebor without turning back. He knows someday he will come back, for this is where his brother’s tomb lies, but for now his future lies elsewhere. He rides his pony slowly, until the mountain is not looming on him anymore, and only clear skies await him.

* * *

 

One-hundred-and-ninety-six years after the day Fili left Erebor behind, an old dwarf is walking the busy streets of Dale. It is not an uncommon sight, for dwarves go back and forth from the Mountain all the time, so no one pays attention to him. His once blond hair is now a candid white, still sporting a long braid of mourning among the other ones of coming of age and finding of his One.

Fili is now two-hundred-and-seventy-eight years old, and yet he still remembers the first time he set eyes upon the mountain. His hair was still blond, his body less hunched and a limb he’s now missing was still securely attached to his body, following him wherever he went. Seeing the Mountain now after all these years strangely feels like coming home. Strangely because this was never his home; it never got the chance to be so. Still, it feels like closure, like finally being where he belongs; he figures it must be because his brother is here, and today he’ll finally be joined with him again.

When he gets in Erebor, he finds easily the royal burial chamber, deep inside the mountain. No one pays attention to him, apparently just another dwarf who will pay homage to the ancestors. Before going to his brother’s tomb, Fili takes a few moments to lightly caress the cold stone of Thorin and Bilbo’s magnificent grave. The dates engraved in the stone are quite far apart, and Fili feels great sadness at the notion that his uncle had to bear so many years without his One. But at least now they are together, for not even the Valar would separate two matching souls in the afterlife.

Fili finally reaches Kili’s grave, smaller than Thorin, yet well kept as befits one of the line of Durin. He falls to his knees, silently weeping. Many times during his life in the Shire Fili has wondered how Kili would have aged, if he too would have white hair and beard, although he suspected the black in his hair would never fade. But Kili had never had the chance to age, and he’d remained the way he was the day he died, forever young and happy and joyous.

In the Shire, Fili has not tried to rebuild a life. He knew his soul would always be tied to Kili’s, so he never tried to find someone to marry and start a family with. He knew it wouldn’t be fair to whoever it would be, for he would never be able to love them fully. Instead, Fili lived quietly in Bag End and tried to enjoy the small things in life: the flowers blossoming wildly in spring, the soft grass under his naked feet, the warm sunlight on his face.

At first the hobbits were naturally quite wary of him; however, as the years passed and Fili showed himself as nothing but a sad and kind dwarf, little by little he became part of their community. Bilbo even visited once, and although by then he was considered completely mad and not at all respectable, the hobbits finally seemed to be convinced that Fili was no threat to anybody.

During the years, Fili became an attraction for all hobbit children; he would tell them incredible stories of dragons and elves and men, and of a young brave dwarf who would live forever unchanged in his palace of stone. Fili saw Kili in every happy face, in every smile, in every eye shimmering with awe. And at times, he even felt less lonely.

However, he knew his place was with his brother. Therefore, when he felt his time was near, and thank Mahal he could still walk, he left, never to come back, directed to Erebor, one last time.

He now thinks Kili’s soul must have been wandering around a lot, waiting for his. Knowing Kili, he’s probably been bouncing out and about for nearly two-hundred years, watching over him and not-so-patiently waiting.

When Fili lays down next to his brother’s tomb, tracing the words engraved in the stone with his fingers, more tears fall down his cheeks. But for the first time in many years, the tears are tears of joy, for he knows it is time to meet Kili once again. When he closes his eyes for the last time, he does so with a light heart. As he feels life flowing out of his fingertips, he lets go of nearly two-hundred years of grief and emptiness.

Fili smiles with all his soul for the first time since his brother died, at the back of his eyelids the image of Kili greeting him with open arms.

 


End file.
